She is the Sunlight
by itsamatterofperception
Summary: She was her sunlight, but now the sun is gone. Angsty!Bechloe.


**She is the Sunlight  
**by: itsamatterofperception

_Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect, and by default I don't own Beca and Chloe, and I most certainly don't own this song, She is the Sunlight, by Trading Yesterday._

_A/N: The idea came to me after reading Poison & Wine by thesecretsociety (and listening to the song), so kudos to you, and well, here goes. (And, seriously, people, go check out Poison & Wine.)_

…

She wasn't heartless, she wasn't unfeeling, she wasn't numb.

She wasn't cold, she wasn't immune to emotion. Far from it, actually.

She was just another college kid. Granted, a college kid in love with one of the most effervescent and beautiful people ever to grace Barden University's campus.

And probably the most unattainable person, in her eyes.

When they first met, it was _her_ vibrant red hair that caught her attention, but it was _her_ startling blue eyes that kept it. She had a weakness for eyes, but only for one particular person's eyes.

_And if all the flowers faded away  
__And if all the storm clouds decided to stay  
__Then you would find me  
__Each hour the same  
__Cause she is tomorrow  
__And I am today._

It must've been _her_ eyes, _her_ beautiful personality, _her_ addicting presence that made her fall in love. Stupidly, she fell in love.

As she glanced up from her laptop in the middle of the quad, she caught a glimpse of red hair. And as her eyes followed that streak of red (not as vibrant and beautiful as _hers_), she remembered.

She remembered lying on the couch, with _her_ cuddled into her side. Run, her mind said, run before she leaves you like everyone else. She's not everyone else, she argued back. She's Chloe. She wouldn't run from me. That's what you think, her mind sneered back at her, but you don't have the greatest track record, do you?

_Cause if right is leaving  
__I'd rather be wrong  
__Cause she is the sunlight  
__The sun is gone._

She remembered sitting in the exact same spot on the quad, watching _her_ run to _him_, and stretched up on her toes to kiss _him_. She remembered the way her heart shattered. She remembered how she turned up the volume of her mix, and she remembered how she felt bass line reverberating through her body. She remembered how she struggled to keep a neutral face as Chloe saw her. She remembered how she fought back the tears.

Chloe had come over to her dorm later that day. They had watched some stupid TV show that she had promptly forgotten about. She remembered holding Chloe in her arms as she cried over some stupid character and their stupid broken heart. Why isn't she crying about your broken heart, her mind asked her, Why doesn't she care? Shut up, she snarled back in her head. I'll never tell her, she doesn't need the guilt. She doesn't need to know.

_And if loving her is  
__Is heartache for me  
__And if holding her means  
__That I have to bleed  
__Then I am the martyr  
__Love is to blame  
__Cause she is the healing  
__And I am the pain._

They had coffee the next day. _Her_ eyes were bright and happy as she chattered on about how _Tom_ had met her after her class, how he carried her bags for her, how he was such a gentleman. She listened and nodded and "mhmm'd" at the right places, but all she could focus on was how her heart was breaking a little bit more, and tried not to rub her chest. She listened as Chloe rambled about grad school at Boston because she was following _Tom._

She's leaving you, her mind whispered, just like every other person.

She waited until she got back into her dorm to let the tears fall. She had been proven wrong again. It was a good thing Kimmy Jin was out with her Korean friends. Beca didn't want her to see her broken like this.

_She lives in a daydream  
__(She lives in a daydream)  
__Where I don't belong  
__Cause she is the sunlight  
__And the sun is gone._

She's just a junior in college, robbed of her love of music. She's just one Beca Mitchell still hopelessly in love with one Chloe Beale. When _she_ moved to Boston, _she_ took her love of music and her heart with her. You're an idiot, her mind whispered.

I know.

I know.

How could I forget? I gave her everything, even if she didn't realize. I gave her what little of my heart I had left. She trampled on it.

I should've told her.

Maybe she wouldn't have left. Maybe she wouldn't have left me for some frat boy.

Musings, her mind said. Just forget about her.

I can't, her traitorous heart replied. I can't.

_And it will take this life of regret  
__For my heart to learn to forget  
__Tomorrow will be as it always has been  
__And I will fall to her again  
__For I know I have come too close_

She remembered long nights of coffee and pizza and vodka. She remembered the secrets she spilled, ones that would have never seen the light of day, or rather, of night, had she been sober. She remembered waking up with the redhead's arm thrown over her waist. She remembered the pounding headache signaling the massive hangover. But most of all, under the too bright sunlight, and the overload of sensation, she remembered the thrill. She remembered the thrill of waking up to seeing _her_ beautiful face, watching the blue eyes, first confused then panicked then shifting to happiness.

Run, her mind said. Run.

I can't, her heart replied back. I love her. I always will.

That's why you're an idiot, Mitchell, her mind hissed. She's going to leave and you'll be stuck in a pool of regret and longing and heartbreak.

_Cause if right is leaving  
__I'd rather be wrong  
__Cause she is the sunlight  
__And the sun is gone_

She should have listened. Because now Chloe's in Boston and she's in Atlanta and Chloe's with Tom, and she's just alone.

She should've listened.

She should've run when she had the chance.

She should've protected her heart.

She should've known that Chloe would have left her.

Left like everyone else.

And now Chloe's gone, and she's just empty.

_She is the sunlight  
__And the sun is gone. _

**fin**.

…

_A/N: This was not where I was originally taking this story. And I ship Bechloe and probably won't usually write angst-y stuff. I like when Beca and Chloe have their happy endings and such and such and such. _

_But alas, I will not stop my Muse. _

_Much love,  
itsamatterofperception._


End file.
